Feeling they missed you yet
Like the loss in a bet
Thought you are not gone soon
A crescent turned full moon
Eight cycles and two seasons
We are all born with some reasons
Seconds count as you marched out
In years to come there will be time out
There is an audacity in hope
Most thought you could never cope
No doubt there is destiny
For yours little need for scrutiny
Do you come again?
Leave the rest for them to attain
Stride on as a legend
Stand tall and never bend
Olaniyi G. Akanji
(c) 2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem